


Like a Dying Fire

by faynia



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-16
Updated: 2012-04-16
Packaged: 2017-11-03 18:06:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/384318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faynia/pseuds/faynia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morgana's tired of Arthur strutting around the castle boasting about his hunting skills, and sets out by herself to show him up. Instead of prancing back to Camelot with a prize kill of her own to show the King, she goes missing. Arthur's sent to out to find and retrieve her, but before they can return an early spring/winter storm blows in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a Dying Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Written for aerisaturner's Forced Bed-Sharing Fest.

The storm came in a vicious burst of driving rains and bitter winds. Winter had not yet released the earth from his frigid claw and let the warmth of spring seep in. Morgana huddled in the mouth of a cave, watching lightning streak across the sky as the rains pelted the dirt and leaves that covered the forest floor. She sat there in the mud and cold as bitter and frigid as the weather outside, spitting curses to the wind and hoping they'd reach the ears of Arthur Pendragon. Without him, she wouldn't be out here in the first place. Without his ego and irritating braying, she wouldn't have stolen his clothing and fled from the castle before dawn's break. She refused to turn back when the clouds had rolled across the sky, darkening the woods well before twilight, all because Arthur Pendragon had an obnoxious mouth and needed to be humbled.

She stared at the hare she had ensnared, dead by her feet and she poked at it with a stick she supposed she could use to start a fire. No doubt someone would be sent to find her, someone probably already had. They would fail to understand why a lady would wish to go out into the forest on her own. Knowing Uther he probably thought she had been kidnapped. The thought of it made her laugh, half mad as thunder clapped and shook the ground.

"Morgana?" Arthur appeared like a hero out of a story, stepping into the cave, cape hanging, quite ridiculously off one shoulder and sword in hand ready to slay some imaginary monster. "Have you lost your mind?"

"I must have if you're here," she shot back, folding her knees to her chest and glaring up the broadside of his sword. "I do hope you thought to bring your horse."

"Unlike you I didn't walk."

Morgana scoffed and waved her hand dismissively. "You probably got scared."

"We thought something bad had happened to you, Morgana." Arthur scowled and sheathed his sword. "But if you'd rather sit in this cave, be my guest."

Morgana smirked, gazing down at his feet. "I'd rather you notice you stepped in my dinner."

"What?" Arthur's irritation dropped and he yelped, jumping off the dead animal and nudging it aside. "You actually-"

"Yes, I actually caught something." She got to her feet, hands clenching at her sides, shivering in the cold. "I'm surprised with you, Arthur Pendragon. You're normally better than this."

"You're insane. I was going to ask why you kept it."

"Of course you were, because you were so keen to believe I could hunt as well as you in the first place."

"It's a brag, Morgana, everyone makes them." He whipped off his cloak and came toward her, holding it out for her. "I'm not blind. I have cuts on the backs of my legs thanks to you. It wasn't that long ago."

"Then why did you insist upon it!"

"My honor was at stake."

"Your honor is horrible and how dare you claim you have any at all when you treat me thus!"

Arthur gritted his teeth and Morgana liked to pretend she could hear the noise of it. "Just take the cloak, Morgana. Please?"

"Why?" she asked, reaching for the bright red cloth, searching Arthur's earnest, or perhaps embarrassed, expression for a clue.

"Your shirt is-" He cleared his throat and Morgana watched as a blush stole into his cheeks, turning crimson the longer she waited for his answer. "It's, well, Morgana, just put the damn thing around your shoulders."

She arched an eyebrow and leaned forward, holding the cape in front of her. "Not until you tell me."

"For God's sake, Morgana, don't make me say it, it's embarrassing enough as it is." She said nothing and waited until Arthur thought the same. The crimson of his face far surpassed that of his cape when he broke. "I can see your blasted breasts through the top, you may as well not be wearing it and I cannot stop myself from looking damn it, now please cover yourself and pretend you have some modesty."

She gasped and would have slapped him if he wasn't averting his eyes, honestly averting them so he was staring down at the floor. As if it were some great trial to keep his eyes on her face.

"When have you ever cared about my modesty?" She placed her hand on his chin and brought his face back around to meet her piercing gaze. His blue eyes were wide and dark and his blush was a little bit lovely now that she could feel the heat of it against her palm. He didn't seem to know where to look. "Do you think about me being naked often, Arthur, when you're alone in your chambers? I hear I'm fairly irresistible."

His bluster was adorable and she petted his cheek before sweeping his cloak around her and reclaiming her seat on the cold stone of the cavern. She grinned up at him, stretching out the cape to share.  
"We can wait out the storm." The rain was already slackening in intensity beyond the cave.

Thunder rumbled off in the distance as the storm moved off at a fast pace. "Come here, Arthur. You look silly standing there like that."

"I'll get you wet."

She tried to retain some composure as he sat beside her, letting her wrap them both in his cape.  
He shivered and the feeling reverberated throughout her. "I'm already wet," she muttered a few seconds later, risking a glance at his face.

All the color fled his cheeks and the muscles in his neck bulged. He snapped his head around to look at her with a sharp gasp. His pupils were blown wide, the dark swallowing the light blue that Morgana held dear. She shifted, pressing her thighs together and favored him with a weak grin.

The maids were prone to their whisperings. Dirty little secrets and stories that would make even the most seasoned knights blush. She wondered if Arthur too had heard of them. He lifted a hand to her face, brushing his thumb across her lower lip. The tiniest touch set off flutters in her stomach and she covered his hand with her own.

"We should leave," he said, voice thick and uneven. "Before we-"

She couldn't help the quick rush of liquid fondness that spread from her heart to her chest and she took his stony, flustered silence and used it to straddle his legs, twisting them up in the cape. "You're quite innocent still, aren't you? How can you claim to be the best at anything? Such a little liar."

Arthur blushed. "Like you've done anything."

"I've done more than you care to hear about." She slid her hand over his chest, stopping to flick at his nipple. His shock rippled through her. "I am older than you, Arthur."

"By two years," he said in protest, fingers biting into her hips. She flexed her thighs and rocked into him. "And you've been guarded."

She laughed. He wasn't wrong, but she wasn't about to say it. Uther had her under such tight scrutiny now that she was beyond the age where many women married that she could barely leave her chambers without being followed, but Arthur had no right to know that.

Besides, she certainly seemed to have thought about this more than he had, and experience only counted if you planned to undress."But years more in maturity and stealth."

Any protest he might have had seemed to be silenced when she started fluttering kisses over his neck and guided his hand to her breast and began to move with a little more urgency, rocking her hips and sliding her legs over his, moving to press against his groin and pass along the heat building inside. "Right," he rasped and he tossed his head back to expose his neck to her attentions.

She traced little designs with her tongue, trying to get a sense of him, but every part of him seemed sensitive to her touch. She wondered if all men were this responsive, or only the green ones.

His hips bucked beneath her in small stuttering bursts and his heart beat fast under her palm. Heat pooled damp between her thighs and the fabric of her jerkins caught and bunched against the tiny spot between them that was quick to burst with jagged pleasure. She panted against his neck and clawed at his shoulders. His breath was hot and hungry against her cheek as he mouthed kisses to her skin, clutching her tighter and then, like the a spark in a dying fire, Arthur groaned, curling up beneath her and jerking in rapid bursts. She could feel him spend himself beneath her, heat and dampness spreading across his britches and wetting hers. She cried out, biting down hard on his shoulder as white heat sliced through her, coiling low between her legs and burst in a rush of dark light. Spots danced in front of her eyes as she exhaled in short gasps, clinging to him.

Arthur held her steady and she thanked God his mouth seemed too distracted by her jaw to talk. She kissed his nose and settled onto his lap, realizing with perverse pride, that she had found a way to stay warm.


End file.
